


too high

by Salty_Cro



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (unintentionally), Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Emetophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, getting high gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 18:37:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19234840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salty_Cro/pseuds/Salty_Cro
Summary: Duck overestimates what he can handle after losing his powers. Indrid shows up to help.[Want to say before y'all read that this is not a glorification/romanticization of drug use, just a grim but realistic possibility I dreamed up]





	too high

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for overuse of drugs/slight overdosing, depression, and vomiting.  
> this fic is Not For Everyone. it is a vent/comfort fic that i thought other people might enjoy. i know it's garbage but i need to feel like im doing something.

Indrid opened the door to a miserable sight.

 

The first and most obvious clue was the half of a brownie sitting un-plated on the coffee table. The second was Duck, lying barely-conscious between the couch and said table.

 

“Oh, Duck,” Indrid said softly. He set down the spare key and went over to Duck. “Hey, Duck, it’s me, Indrid. How are you feeling?”

 

“No, no, you can’t be here,” Duck groaned.

 

“Why’s that?” Indrid asked.

 

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” Duck said, dragging his hand over his face.

 

“It’s a bit late for that. Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Indrid said.

 

“Nah, I’m good right here,” Duck said.

 

“You’re not,” Indrid said.

 

“Just… just pretend I’m not here. It’s okay. I’m fine,” Duck said.

 

“That’s not how it works,” Indrid said.

 

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” Duck repeated, covering his eyes. “Like… this is my lowest point. You don’t have to be here for this.”

 

“Duck…” Indrid gently pulled Duck’s hand away from his eyes. “I would so much rather help you than pretend you were perfect.”

 

“I’m too high,” Duck said.

 

“I can tell. Come on, you have to get up,” Indrid said.

 

“Help me?” Duck asked quietly.

 

“Of course.” 

 

Indrid pushed the coffee table away and helped Duck into a sitting position. Duck sat for a moment, catching his breath. Indrid offered him a hand, and Duck pulled himself onto the couch. Duck was breathing heavily, but he wasn’t wheezing. Indrid was glad that Duck had, at the very least, not triggered his asthma by smoking.

 

“You overestimated?” Indrid guessed.

 

“That’s an understatement,” Duck said, leaning back against the couch.

 

“How long ago?” Indrid asked.

 

“Maybe an hour since my third bite, four since my first,” Duck replied.

 

“I see,” Indrid said. He sat down next to Duck. “Well, I could purge it from your system, but you will feel like even worse garbage.”

 

“I think I’ll just ride this out,” Duck said.

 

“Then that means I’ll have to stay with you,” Indrid said. He was going to stay no matter Duck’s response, but he was hoping for the more positive futures he could see.

 

“Why?” Duck asked.

 

“Because I want to make sure you’re okay,” Indrid said.

 

“Why?” Duck asked again.

 

“Because I care about you,” Indrid said honestly. In all the timelines, it was better if he just said it.

 

“Damn, I didn’t think you were gonna say it,” Duck sighed.

 

“You’re high out of your mind, it would just be mean to lie to you,” Indrid said, “You would believe me if I told you your moon was made of foam.”

 

“I know it’s not,” Duck said, though he didn’t sound sure.

 

“Have you called in from work?” Indrid asked.

 

“Are you kidding me? I’d get fired before I could open my mouth,” Duck said.

 

“So that means no hospital either. Do you think you can make it to your bed?” Indrid asked.

 

“No,” Duck said, lurching forward. 

 

Indrid caught him by the shoulders. “That’s okay. We can stay here. Just sit back.”

 

Duck did so, and Indrid let his hands slide down Duck’s arms. Then Duck took Indrid’s left hand in his own. Indrid let Duck fiddle with his hand, watching curiously. Duck kept rubbing his thumb over Indrid’s ring finger.

 

“Your nails are always perfect,” Duck noticed.

 

“It’s magic,” Indrid admitted.

 

“I figured,” Duck said. He stopped fiddling, but he held onto Indrid’s hand. “I’m sorry for being so weird.”

 

“No, it’s perfectly fine. You’re not fine, but I don’t mind this so long as you don’t hurt me,” Indrid said.

 

“Fuck!” Duck said suddenly, dropping Indrid’s hands to cover his face. “I hit you. Fuck, Indrid, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I thought that was okay, I’m sorry.”

 

“Duck, hey, Duck, it’s okay,” Indrid said softly, pulling Duck’s hands down. “That was a while ago. I’ve already forgiven you. Sure, it didn’t feel good at the time, but it was somehow the best possible timeline.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Duck said, taking his hands back.

 

“For what?” Indrid asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Duck sighed.

 

“You’re not guilty of anything,” Indrid reminded him.

 

“I could’ve been saving people for years,” Duck said, “Damn near 25 years I fuckin’ squandered my superpowers and now here I am. A bunch of monsters and nothing to fight them with.”

 

“You did what any eighteen year old would have done,” Indrid pointed out.

 

“I wasn’t just eighteen though, Indrid,” Duck said, “I was nineteen and twenty and everything after that up to now. I got a stable job and a home and a cat.”

 

“Exactly. You had your own life, and by then you thought you dreamed it, right?” Indrid said.

 

“I thought I was high and seeing things,” Duck corrected.

 

“Well, you took up your destiny eventually, right? Who’s to say this wouldn’t have happened if you took it up when you were twenty? Maybe your powers were just meant to be a trial run, to get you into the game,” Indrid said.

 

“I don’t know what the fuck that means,” Duck laughed.

 

“You don’t have to,” Indrid said. He looked up at Duck, who was slouching towards him. “Do you need something to eat?”

 

“Nah, I think I’m gonna vomit soon, actually,” Duck admitted.

 

“Okay, well, let’s get to the bathroom then,” Indrid said. Duck laughed.

 

Indrid stood up and dragged Duck along. Duck seemed willing to follow, except that he kept tripping over his own feet and stopping. Indrid was beginning to see a lot of futures where Duck threw up in the hallway, so he was trying to hurry this up. Duck was doing his best, though, so Indrid couldn’t ask more of him.

 

Luckily, they made it to the bathroom in time. Indrid held Duck’s hair back, trying to ignore the horrible retching. Once Duck was done, he sat down on the tile.

 

“I’m sorry,” Duck said.  _ For ruining your night/for being such a wreck/for all this/for making you worry, _ he almost said.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Indrid said. He got a washcloth wet and handed it to Duck. “Do you feel any better?”

 

“A little,” Duck said, wiping his face. Indrid could feel his fever from a foot away.

 

“You need water,” Indrid decided.

 

“I need to be a person,” Duck said.

 

“Everyone reserves the right to not be a person sometimes. I think losing your superpowers qualifies as such a moment,” Indrid said.

 

“I shouldn’t need someone else to take care of me,” Duck said.

 

“We all need to be taken care of, Duck, that’s how it works,” Indrid said.

 

“Not everyone is pathetic like this,” Duck said.

 

“Hey.” Indrid got down to Duck’s level, landing on his knees. “You are not pathetic. Pathetic implies pity. You’re not pitiful, Duck, you’re dealing with everything in the best way you know how.”

 

“You’re too nice,” Duck said, looking up at Indrid.

 

“That’s the first time anyone has said so about me,” Indrid said, “But I doubt it’s true. I’m a regular amount nice for the circumstances, I think.”

 

“You’re talking in circles,” Duck said.

 

“Come on, you’re going to bed,” Indrid said, standing up.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Duck sighed. He took Indrid’s hand and let himself be pulled up. Indrid held him steady as they walked across the hallway. Duck sat down on his bed.

 

“I’m going to get you some water, okay?” Indrid said.

 

“Okay,” Duck mumbled.

 

Indrid went into the kitchen and quickly got out a glass. As the water filled it, he checked on Duck’s futures. It looked like the man was two seconds from falling asleep. Indrid grabbed the half-filled glass and walked back to the bedroom.

 

“Hey, before you lay down, drink this,” Indrid instructed.

 

Duck complied without comment. Indrid could see the pure exhaustion in his face, illuminated by thin strips of moonlight.

 

“I’m still going to be here, okay? Just to keep an eye on you,” Indrid said.

 

“Okay,” Duck yawned, “I’m going to sleep.”

 

“Okay,” Indrid said.

 

He watched Duck get comfortable and fall asleep immediately. It was both a relief and a new challenge: making sure Duck stayed asleep and also didn’t choke. Indrid scanned the closest futures and determined he had enough time to clean up. That wouldn’t take long though, considering how quickly Duck crashed. Indrid picked up the brownie, which had luckily not been touched by Duck’s cat, and sealed it in a bag before throwing it away. That was a clear indicator of how severely Duck was reacting; he hadn’t ensured the safety of his cat.

 

Once that was done, Indrid came back to Duck’s room. Duck had curled into one side of the bed, leaving plenty of room. Indrid considered the possibility for a moment. A moment turned into a minute. But he brushed it aside and opted for the desk chair instead. It might be weirder and less comfortable than the couch, but Indrid didn’t feel good about leaving Duck alone. He didn’t think about it for long, though, because he was pretty exhausted himself. He was out like a light within minutes.

 

~☀~

 

Duck woke up slowly and miserably.

 

His body felt like it was melting on the inside, and his head felt like it had disconnected entirely. He could barely remember anything from last night, except…

 

“Shit,” Duck muttered. He started moving his limbs, frustrated at their slowness. When he finally managed to sit up, he noticed the man on his floor. “Fuck.”

 

Indrid stirred, lifting his head off his arms. “Oh good, you’re awake.”

 

“You… how long have you been here?” Duck asked. He hoped it wasn’t long, but he knew better.

 

“Since late last night. You— Duck, I know you’re about to beat yourself up over this, but I promise it’s okay. I just couldn’t let you suffer by yourself,” Indrid said.

 

“I haven’t fuckin’ seen you since the tree,” Duck changed the subject. He knew he sounded rude, but he really just missed the guy.

 

“I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t know if it was safe to come back yet,” Indrid said.

 

“But you came back for me?” Duck raised an eyebrow.

 

“As fast as I could,” Indrid said.

 

“Heh.” Duck leaned back against the headboard. “I don’t think I should go to work today.”

 

“Oh no, definitely not,” Indrid agreed.

 

“You don’t have to stay, though,” Duck said. Apparently he was important enough to pull Indrid from whatever oblivion he had been in, but he wasn’t going to make Indrid take care of him.

 

“I can,” Indrid offered.

 

“Okay but just… can I just tell you something first? And then you can decide from there?” Duck asked. He knew it was going to go poorly.

 

“Go ahead,” Indrid said.

 

“I… like you a lot. Like, more than I should, considering the amount of time we’ve spent together,” Duck said.

 

“The feeling is mutual,” Indrid replied, unfazed.

 

“Really? Like, you’re not just saying that so I’ll shut up?” Duck asked.

 

“I don’t want you to shut up,” Indrid said, “In fact, I’m interested in most things you have to say.”

 

“...Thanks,” Duck said, blinking. He was still too disconcerted to understand what that meant, but he knew it was nice. At least, Indrid said it real nice. “Listen, did I say something weird last night and you’re just humoring me?”

 

“No, in fact, you barely talked at all last night,” Indrid lied.

 

“You’re lying,” Duck said.

 

“Well, you didn’t do anything weird. You wallowed in regret for a bit, and apologized far more than you needed to, but nothing was out of line,” Indrid assured him.

 

“Alright,” Duck sighed, “Thank you, for helping me.”

 

“It’s no problem,” Indrid said. He offered Duck a hand. “And maybe when you don’t feel like you were hit by a truck, we can have a more in-depth conversation about our feelings.”

 

“That sounds good,” Duck said, smiling a little.


End file.
